One Unending Understanding, Deep, and Wide, and ta

The Sky was too blue, and the air too clear.

When the day is beautiful like this, my mind thinks too much.

I watched this little chap cross the garden, and laughed as he crossed over the top of a snail.

When we lived in the country, the crows woke in the morning, and flew north, to begin the scavaging in the fields and on the kerbsides for their protein. In the evening, they flew south again, to roost in the trees which skirted the village. I could watch quite happily each evening from the attic window as they headed home, shouting the days findings to each other.

Now we live near the sea, and in the morning, rather strangely, you can watch the Seagirls flying north, inland.... obviously heading in for some scavaging of their own, and in the evening, they too, fly south to roost on the rocks at the harbour, and some may fly out as far as the Lady Isle.

First thing in the morning, a Blackbird sings her song from the roof of the house opposite, in the evening, she comes back and sings again, letting us know that the day is drawing to a close, and then heads off to wherever she roosts.

When we lived in the country, as dusk fell, we retreated inside. Closed the curtains, and dimmed the lights, and turned the TV up as loud as we comfortably might. Evening in the country was not pleasant. The youths of the area had too much time in their hands, and abuse and noise was their occupation of the evening. Keeping your head down, and avoiding confrontation was a good way of staying unharmed.

Now in the town, near the beach, evenings are a pleasure. The bird song is everywhere, along with the noise of neighbours chatting companiably to each other, and the occassional conversation over the fence. The voices of children laughing and playing in the park nearby is a joy to hear.

Every evening, a load of children from the estate descend on the park - for the mass football event, or to lounge on the strange swing and roundable for gossiping with friends. Aggression and swearing are not as a rule heard, and no child is excluded from the game. I've seen boys as old as 21 playing alongside 10 year olds.

As the sun sets, and the voices drift away, the day cools down, and the movement is towards the house. Lights come on in back windows, and the sounds of family life continued, muted from inside.

I haven't fathomed the reason for being, but just being today, was a pleasure.